


talismans

by stellatiate



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Drama, F/M, Family, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellatiate/pseuds/stellatiate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She's gone," she says with a hollow concavity to her voice. Hakoda's lips form a thin line and he nods his head curtly.</p><p>"She's safe," he reminds her with a gentle kiss to her forehead.</p><p> </p><p>-—katara & zuko. au, the prince of egypt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. —no sleep in heaven

  
**no sleep in heaven, or bethlehem** ;  
—mama who bore me  
…

It's inexplicable.

Her arms tremble with strain even after she rests the basket in the rushing water as if they can sense the absence of such a familiar burden.

 _Not a burden_ , she chastises herself swiftly as she kneels in the dirt. Kya draws her fingertips through the water, watching the ripples.  _Never a burden_. Her eyes flutter shut at the sounds of mirthful laughter babbling from tiny lungs and she can't help but smile sadly. Kya had expected to find relief in the knowledge that she was going to do this, but the wide glitter of Katara's eyes and the prickle of her laughter in her ears easily rips through her wildly, in a way that only makes her want to gather her baby girl up in her arms until it all heals up inside.

"Katara," she croaks and Katara answers with a squeal, her tiny fists raised. Kya notices the way that the water underneath the basket sways in dangerous alignment to the motion of her fists.

She grasps her tiny wrists, frowns when she can feel the pulse of control, the tension of gravity like the moon is pulling at her blood. Kya tucks the blanket tighter around her, pulls it up to Katara's chin, and tries to smooth out the wobbly line of what she thinks is a smile.

Katara stares back from her safe haven, round blue eyes darting back and forth between the contradictory emotions of her mother's face and the little boy plotted down in the silt of the river, plucking at the reeds.

 _This is it_.

Kya chokes on a sob and the little boy catapults his reed carelessly into the receding line of the water to wedge his way into his mother's lap. The gesture emanates compassion, as though he already feels the responsibility of taking care of her on his shoulders, even though his attempt is weak at best.

She breathes in deeply, tries to smile at the warmth of her son against her. She'll always have Sokka and she should at least be grateful for that.

"Bye," Sokka whispers quietly as he folds his hand in an imitation of a wave, and Kya lifts her head to see the currents carrying the basket away from the edge of the river.

Panic rises in the center of her chest and nearly smothers her as she cries out, "Katara!" She pushes Sokka from her lap and jumps into the water, her feet squelching in the riverbed before she propels herself forward. She can hear Sokka crying out for her but it seems like a distant noise as she treads haphazardly, leaping forward to try and grasp the ends of the basket floating away.

But her commotion has attracted attention from the other side of the river tributary, because a flame skims just over the surface of Kya's head, lands with a burst of heat and air in the foliage on the other side. She hears Sokka's yelp and turns back to see him scampering away from the concentrated blast of heat.

Kya is stuck between responsibilities, between her daughter and her son, and she feels herself shrinking back under the pressure. She wants Katara, she can feel the ache in her womb for her daughter, but she cannot sacrifice Sokka.

 _I will not_. So she shrieks her surrender, praying that Katara has drifted away far enough, hoping that she can distract them. The two guards wade over the distance, moving swiftly as Kya is coughed up into the smooth sand and crunch of reeds under her knees.

Sokka kneels in front of her and presses himself to her body, ignoring the fact that she's drenched in water. "I love you," she says as she tugs him closer. The uncomfortable bundle in her throat breaks up as she tries to swallow her tears, but fails. "Run."

She pushes him into the tall grass and watches his eyes widen and tears fill the creases before she lets out a shocked noise, the sensation of pain blossoming down her spine.

She falls forward into the muddy soil and grass as Sokka runs away and she can see the guards' feet poised near her and she whimpers as they grab a fistful of her hair and yanks her into a kneeling position.

"What are you doing,  _filth_ ," the guard spits at her and she feels dirty on his words alone. But all Kya can think about is Katara, floating peaceably down the river, full of waterbending power, and Sokka, running through the woods until he reaches their small village. She grits her teeth together with that in mind.

"I," her voice shakes and she coughs to clear her throat, "my baby," she mumbles just loud enough for them to hear, "I didn't want my baby anymore."

The guard with her hair tangled in his fist tilts her back painfully and looks over her face before he laughs and thrusts her back into the ground. Kya digs her nails into the soil, trembles as she tries to steady herself.

The two guards seem to be aware of a joke that Kya misses as she shakes the mud off of her hands and gets to her feet, edging away from them. One guard elbows the other, grinning and whispering something that makes her cheeks burn with shame. She doesn't hear it, but the way they turn to look at her conveys more than words could.

"Next time," a guard pipes up, seemingly ignorant to the way Kya's eyes follow the shoreline, "you ought to keep your filthy legs closed. Get back to your village." His eyes linger in the dangerous way and it takes Kya a few seconds to process before she's darting back into the brush, hoping that Sokka has found his way back to the village safely by now.

Kya stumbles down the dusty path in front of their small tent and it's Sokka who sees her first, dirt-caked fingernails thrown in the air at the sight of her. But Hakoda pulls the little boy into his arms before he can run off, carrying them over to her. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and it feels good to be steadied, so she leans into his broad chest.

"She's gone," she says with a hollow concavity to her voice. Hakoda's lips form a thin line and he nods his head curtly.

"She's safe," he reminds her with a gentle kiss to her forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this whole story is dedicated to bean and shannon for encouraging bad ideas, socks and yin for unnecessary (but vastly appreciated) support. last lullabies are depressing. and slightly overrated, i have a bad track record with lullabies. prepare for baby zuko point of view. also, vast apologies, this whole multi-chaptered epic thing is new to me.


	2. —here, the river brought you/the walk home

…

**here, the river brought you, and it's here the river meant to be your home**  
—all i wanted,  _the prince of egypt_  
…

"Mama!"

A little boy toddles along the edge of the water, his white and gold clothes soaked through as he splashes forward.

" _Mama_!" He screams again and his nurses wince as he stomps his way through the shallow water with a stick clutched in his hand. He slams it down into the water before he uses it to hook into a handle on a wicker basket.

"Yes, my little duck." The nurses swivel their heads back to watch their mistress lift the smooth fabric of her clothes as she steps into the water, clutching the white material.

He pulls the basket closer until he can latch his small hands on the edge and peer inside of it, dropping his stick into the water. "What's this?" He sticks a palm into the basket, brushes the smooth brown skinned sleeping baby.

His mother finally stands beside him and gasps loudly as she looks in the basket. She grips the edges of the basket and starts to back away from the water. The little boy skips through the water after his mother and the nurses close in on her as she lifts the basket out.

"A baby, Zuko," she says with awe in her voice, nudging him back so she can carefully extract the little girl from the damp blankets she's cocooned in, "an adorable, baby girl."

…

Zuko doesn't  _like_  this new baby.

Whenever anyone other than his mother holds her, she starts to cry—which seems pretty ungrateful, considering he's the one who pulled her to safety, instead of letting her drift along the river until it flooded. And he had to let go of his stick, and it was a  _really_  good stick.

She looks different,  _funny_ , to him, because her skin is the same color as the women who bring their food in, and Zuko has never seen anyone else that color.

So when he climbs into a chair to sit at the table with his family, he scowls slightly at the sight of the new baby perched in his mother's lap. His father doesn't seem too much happier for the wear, so he slides down in his seat and focuses his attention on whipping the ponytail of his hair around his head.

"Some peasant woman has clearly failed at drowning her child—"

"Ozai!" Zuko looks up at the sound of his mother's voice, but then turns his head back down. His mother is bouncing that little girl in her arms protectively and jealousy bubbles up in him.  _It's not fair_ ; he folds his arms across his bare chest.

"She's adorable," Ursa coos and extends a finger to the little girl, who latches onto it with a gurgle and soft sigh. She nuzzles her face close into Ursa's chest and Zuko kicks his feet out until they rattle the table.

"Zuko," his mother turns her head to look at him and he doesn't want to smile, his mom wants to  _keep_  this baby and that is silly. His father thinks the baby should have drowned, though, and Zuko is old enough to know that it isn't much better.

So he sits up in his seat a little more and investigates this baby a little bit more. Her eyes are round and wide and dart around as if she will miss something if she blinks, even for a moment. And they're blue, and Zuko has never seen anyone with blue eyes. Even the women who bring their food in have dark eyes, sometimes gold like his own, but this blue reminds Zuko of the sky, clear and vibrant.

And she's so dark. Zuko's not sure he will ever quite get used to that.

"Azula will have a sister," she says with a smile, and Zuko sits back because the servers have filed in with dishes of food to set before them. "She looks a little older, though it's certainly hard to tell." His mother rests her palm in the center of the baby's back, grazing her lips across her hairline soothingly.

"Her name is Katara," Ursa adds with a firm kiss, "it was sewn into her blanket. Katara."

Zuko frowns, his face schooled into concentration. "Katara?" he mimics, pushing himself up into kneeling in his chair. His mother turns and smiles at him, and he smiles back infectiously.

Maybe this new baby isn't so terrible.

…

Katara  _isn't_  the terrible one, Zuko comes to realize as his mother presses his sister into his arms and she latches onto his hair with a squall.

"Azula!" he cries as she wails, her body a gigantic weight in his hands, "let go of my hair!"

Ursa plucks Azula away and tugs until she releases Zuko's hair, and the toddler grumbles as he moves to sit on the floor in front of Katara. Her head had been craned back to watch the commotion, but now that it's over, her attention is focused on a wooden block carved intricately in the likeness of the winged sun disk. She grips it tightly and waves it about before she pushes one of the pointed wings in her mouth and fixes Zuko with a curious, blue stare.

He huffs and shuffles away from her.

"Why aren't there more boys," Zuko says irritably and his mother sends him a withering look that does its job as his shoulders sag.

It shouldn't be so difficult to adjust to this idea. Azula and Katara are a lot smaller than him and require a lot more attention than he does. All the attention his mother has previously afforded him will be evenly divided between the two of them, and it is his hand-me-down of sorts.

The idea only saddens him a little bit more than he expects it to.

…

**the walk home was really long**  
(please don't tell me)  
—what went wrong  
…

"You're  _not_  supposed to be playing in the solar temple!"

Zuko's fists ball at his sides as his yells echo throughout the temple. It is a marvelous structure, entirely crafted of mudbricks and overlaid with limestone, especially in the courtyard in front of the altar where he stood. Zuko had been to the solar temple a few times with his uncle, and he took great care to talk about the quartz and red granite that the Earth servants had mined specifically for this reason.

He had been largely disinterested because he hated hearing about Uncle's encounters with those who were now Earth servants on the mainland; he always had some gross thing to say about how  _voluptuous_  the women were.

And here he is,  _trying_  to do his duty as the firstborn and the Prince, visiting the solar temple and sitting in front of the dusty-bricked obelisk; to be honest, he didn't understand the difference between the temple and the beautiful, limestone-cut dials in his mother's favorite garden.

But Zuko didn't complain too much because Uncle had told him plenty of stories about those who worshipped the sun, more than most with fire ingrained in their blood; the things he'd chosen to remember were the ritualistic chanting and way they dressed and how uncultured it seemed to him.

So at least he doesn't have to do  _that_.

And here are his sisters, defiling the solar temple with their  _childish_  playing. His warnings go unheard as the two girls circle one another in stances that mix combat with playfulness.

"Don't be a fun ruiner, Zuzu," Azula drawls with her hands held out towards Katara. She is agile, shifting between her feet like the wind is blowing her about, her bare torso twisting as she narrows her eyes on Katara.

Katara giggles, the bottom of her robes hiking up over her legs as she hops back and forth, "Yeah,  _Zuzu_ ," she levels a kick at Azula's head but the Princess ducks, charges at Katara's midsection. She shrieks when they topple back and land hard on the courtyard floor, but Katara tucks and rolls Azula onto her back with a triumphant grin.

She locks her hands over the golden cuffs on her wrists with a haughty, "Ha!"

Zuko lets out a strangled cry of frustration before he turns on his heel, his hair whipping out behind him, and storms away from the obelisk and its carved altar, towards the passageway that stretches back towards the valley temple. By the time he reaches the covered path, his feet ache and every exhale comes out as a whine, and where are those  _stupid_  annoying guards when he actually wants to be carried back somewhere?

Katara catches up to him first, her fingers snatching the smooth material wound around his waist. Zuko balks for a moment, feels the tug and clutches at the hem as she skips up beside him. The knot of her hair is slightly askew from her impromptu fight with Azula, and curly strands slip out as she smooths the crop of hair too short for her band as it falls across her forehead.

"Were you going to meditate?" She bounces on the balls of her feet as he trudges and Zuko glowers at her, because how does she have so much energy? He lets out a sigh and looks over at her again, deflating.

Katara is different than Azula, she always has been. The two of them were partners in crime in everything and even though it was Katara who seemed to drum up the most dangerous, inappropriate ideas, Azula was the domineering one, surprised when a little bit of luck and nonchalance led to Katara taking charge.

But Katara's round cheeks are lifted in a smile at him, for no reason other than him being there, and Zuko knows that is a solid difference for the two girls. "I was  _going_  to," he huffs with a frown, "now I'll have to tell father—"

"That you meditated with me?" Zuko could hear the question in her voice and when he looked at her, those eyes were widened further than necessary, lip pouted out at him. His eyes bulged incredulously.

"You want me to lie!"

" _You_ want to get us all in trouble, Zuko!"

The Prince storms through the open door at the valley passageway, a narrow tunnel that will spit them out into the valley temple. The walls had always felt daunting to Zuko, being in total darkness save the flickering, weak light of torches on the cavernous walls, and Katara edges closer as her eyes dart around.

"Please?" She winds her arms around his waist and digs her feet into the ground, and Zuko grunts.  _Stupid, stubborn,_ annoying  _little girl, thinks she can get away with everything_. But his feet hurt, blisteringly so, even though the stones in the passageway are smoothly carved. He tries to pry her hands loose, but she lets out a sharp cry and he stops with a frown.

"Katara—"

"I'm  _scared_ ," she mumbles into his back and his shoulders sag. Zuko turns and feels wetness smearing as he moves before he stops and crouches down. He can see her fingers out of the corner of his eye, plucking at the golden rope tied around her waist, keeping her robes together, and a tear drops into the sandy floor.

"Climb on," he says in a quiet, irritable voice, and she clambers onto his back, her arms wound around his neck tightly. Zuko stands up, grumbles quietly to himself because he's already offered, and even worse than explaining to his father why he let his sisters run around the temple—

(Zuko didn't  _let_  them, but as a leader, ultimate responsibility for all things that happened under his watch, his father told him, were what he allowed, and since he  _allowed_  them to do it, then it was his responsibility.)

—would be explaining to his mother that Katara had to be fetched by a guard because he'd left her in the temple, crying and scared.

"How did you get down here if you were scared?" It comes out as a taunt, but he's honestly curious, and perhaps slightly bitter, and…perhaps it  _is_  a taunt. Zuko's feet are too raw and he's too annoyed to decipher his own tone of voice.

"Azula lit it with her fire," she sniffles into his neck, wiping a hand over her face. Zuko can only tell because she shifts and her fingers brush his cheek as she moves around, "It's all blue, and it's really pretty, and she held it out for us."

He doesn't think about how she can produce the blue fire in bursts; Uncle had told him, when Azula had performed the feat in front of their father, that blue fire burned the hottest, but red fire burned the fiercest.

Not that it mattered to his father, who only saw maximum effectiveness and destruction in the blue flames.

"Don't let Azula yank you around," he says quietly, to Katara, to himself, with his hands hooked under her legs, "don't let  _anyone_  yank you around,  _ever_."

Zuko nearly stumbles as he walks across the darkly lit valley temple and out into the blistering afternoon sun, squinting into the sunlight as people are starting to make the journey into the sun temple. A couple of people on their own brush past the Prince and Princess without acknowledgement, which suits Zuko just fine.

It's when he and Katara have hit the last of the stairs that he even notices the other little girl waving frantically at him.

And then, Katara hollers, "Hi, Ty Lee!" Zuko's face reddens as she leans back and waves one of her hands, the other still coiled around his neck, and then slides down his back to run past him and towards her. She's standing beside another little girl who winces at Katara's exclamation and folds her arms when the two girls embrace one another tightly.

"Hi, Mai," Katara says shyly, pulls back to wave slightly at her, and then tilts her head up before she bows, "Vizier."

Mai shoves Katara to the side despite the fact that her father smiles at the recognition; her mother, however, leans over and scolds her. "Mai, don't be so  _rough_  with the young Princess!"

Zuko grits his teeth in annoyance, watching the girls as they start to group up and slink away from Mai's parents, and he starts to turn back to their palace when, "Zuko!"

He cringes, his feet paused mid-step. When he turns, he lifts a hand to scratch at his scalp, dislodge the neatly pulled ponytail his hair has been arranged in. "I'm not  _playing_  with  _girls_!" he near-shrieks before he takes off running in the sand.

His feet hurt, but he'll be happy to be away from them, even if for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baby princesses are the cutiest. egyptian sun temples are the perfect child playground. if you want a better picture than my terrible descriptions then check out anything to do with niuserre. also, it might be a few weeks before chapter three, but i promise i will have it out to you as soon as possible. that being said, i am thriving on feedback and reviews, so if there's something you dislike (or like), please let me know! or questions, questions are great, ha.


	3. —from babies into flowers in our eyes

…

**all the kids have bloomed**  
 **from babies into flowers in our eyes**  
—i will never leave your side  
…

Zuko hates the days when his mother is too busy to take him into her gardens, whether she is consumed with their father's business or other things that need tending to, so he enjoys visiting the plush gardens, flowing with water and foliage and plenty of spaces to relax.

But as he squints into the sky, watching the sun hit its zenith, he wonders if it's possible to dunk his face in the shallow water and drown himself because of all of the shrieking and giggling going on. It echoes in playful bursts, even to the secluded end of the garden where he's perched himself, and short of slamming his palms against his ears, he doesn't know how to block the sound out of his mind.

Even still, he can't keep his eyes away from it, away from them. Ty Lee laughs, vaults backwards into an elegant split in the grass, tossing her hands up with a shout and a flourish. Beside her, Katara dances in place, bare feet hopping, dress twirling around her legs. "You lost  _again_ , Azula." It's Katara who lets the smug tone permeate her voice, halting her victory two step in order to fold her arms across her chest and level a potent smirk at the other princess.

Azula looks as if she will begin to steam just from Katara's insolence alone, and Zuko watches his sister with something akin to nervousness shaking through his bones. A complacent Mai trails along at her side, ambivalent to the entire situation.

"It's not my fault both of you are freaks," and where Ty Lee's lips start to drift into a wobbly pout, Katara only flicks stray curls out of her face and narrows her blue eyes at her sister. Zuko stares, because  _both_ of these girls are explosive in each other's presence, and he has seen simple stick-and-stone games turn into tumbles of fists and tangles of hair being pulled, because  _he_  has had to pull them apart.

He's certain that Katara hasn't forgotten their last fight, especially from the way her fingers still ghost over her skin where curls of hair used to tickle her cheek; Zuko remembered walking with Katara to their parents' bedchambers, standing quietly in the doorway as his mother drew scissors along Katara's charred curls in order to even them out.

"Well, then," Katara pops her hip out to the side, grinning as her toes squirm along the grass, "you let yourself lose to a couple of  _freaks_?" She looks down at Ty Lee, holds her hand out to pull the girl up to stand at her side.

Azula's lips pull into a tight bow, but she doesn't speak. She turns around to Mai, who stares at Katara with a look that borders on hostility, and latches her fingers into the crook of her arm. "Have you seen my brother?" she asks so suddenly that Mai jumps, face reddening, and Zuko himself shirks back into the shadows where he'd been observing.

What unsettles him the most is that Mai's eyes connect with his instantly, as if she'd known where he was the moment she walked into the garden. His sister's friends unsettle him in ways he has difficulty describing, because his sister unsettles him; Azula, of course, because the way that she sinks her talons into them and drags them bloody through her whims is frightening.

Ty Lee smiles, turns end over end with laughter bubbling from her throat like air, twists unruly strands of Katara's hair into braids. And Mai, well, she is quiet and reserved, she stores her venom away and simply observes. Katara is the freest of them all, but only when Azula isn't around.

Zuko likes them better that way.

Zuko marches over towards them, just as Azula croons, "Come join us, darling brother," and he knots his hands into fists, stopping between them.

"Azula, I really—"

He feels Katara's fingers wind into the maze of his own before he notices that she's standing closer to him than she was before, and he looks down at her in confusion. "Just play," she says in exasperation, in a voice that knows resistance is never an option, "please."

His eyes widen as he looks down at their hands before he rips his away, sidling away from Katara. She doesn't seem hurt by his actions, though, and simply lets her hand fall back to her side. He tilts his head back, a withering look tossed in Azula's direction, but she only takes on the dangerous innocence he imagines a coiled viper-rat has, right before it darts forward and pours venom into its prey.

Azula grins ferally, flits around the garden once she has her brother's attention. She plucks two apples down from one of the trees, and grabs both Mai and Katara, dragging them towards the fountain. "All right, brother," she says as she lines the two girls up, shoulders barely rubbing together, before she thrusts the apples into their hands, "let me show you what we're going to do now."

Zuko shifts, moving closer to his sister as she draws her hand underneath her chin inquisitively. "Mai, Katara," she barks, "put the apples on your heads." Zuko's eyes linger on the girls; Mai tips the apple into the center of her head, pulling her hands in front of her and churning them nervously in her skirts, but Katara runs her nails along the apple as if she'd rather take a bite out of it – but she relents, nudging it against the coiled bun of her hair until it stays still.

"Now," the princess circles back to her brother's side, legs inched apart, "what you do is try to knock the apples off of their heads."

And before he can stop her, she roots her feet in the ground, and twists her torso rapidly; a thin stream of flame swirls from her hands, the precise shots spearing through both of the apples. Mai's apple wobbles, tips off of her head and back into the fountain. But Katara's catches fire and Zuko can almost see the deliberation of the fire spreading through the fruit, and he sprints towards her.

But Katara shrieks, slapping the apple off of her head and onto the ground in front of her, and when she spots Zuko careening towards them, she grabs Mai by the shoulders and jerks her backwards. Zuko lands in the fountain, hands and knees immediately raw, water pouring down over his head, and even with it dripping in his ears, he can hear Azula's loud laughter.

Ty Lee giggles, and when Zuko twists to face the girls, Mai and Katara are perched at the edge of the fountain. "Zuko," Katara starts, holding her hand out, but he slaps it away as he crawls out of the water, his face screwed up in frustration.

"You're all  _crazy_!" he screams, and part of him wishes he'd just drowned in the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ty lee is the one secondary character i wish was a primary, sigh. sorry this took so long, and really, i almost omitted this because it reeks of filler, but there are tiny things that factor into later chapters (and i like writing about the "secondary" characters). and i really like little atla kids, there are a few more chapters left of them before things escalate. (if you're thinking of asking me exactly how old they are, hang in there until the next chapter because there will be birthday celebrations.)
> 
> i got some questions about the way the plot is unfolding and the concise way of putting it is, that with time, everything will make sense.


	4. —against your rules, against your skin

…

**against the walls against your rules against your skin**  
—sleepyhead

…

Somehow, the three of them manage to balance on the bench in front of Azula's mirror. It is merely a dusty reflective surface mounted in impure white marble, as is the rest of the vanity, but they can see their reflections animated opposite them. Zuko tucks himself into the alcove cut out against the door of his sister's room, fingers brushing over the chipped flint knife his uncle had given to him as a gift.

"My hair is finally long enough to knot," Katara scoops the thick, brown curls away from her neck and holds them in the center of her head with a grin. From the other side of the bench, Ty Lee's eyes cross the mirror to gaze at Katara, and her hands lift to her mouth to stifle a girlish giggle.

Azula rakes her fingernails through the pin-straight shadow of her hair and gazes into the mirror with a calculated, twisted humor in her smile. "That's quite a shame, sister," she says with malicious compliment, "I liked your hair _short_."

Zuko stares at the three of them, ignoring the stagnant silence that follows as Azula continues to claw her fingers through her hair. After a few still moments, Katara goes on shaking the handful of unruly hair in her hand, lips pinned in a shallow smirk because she does not rise to Azula's taunts as much as she used to.

"You should be happy that you're both six now," Katara says from the far left side of the bench. She leans in slightly, fingers swiping a ribbon off of the dresser, and turning her attention back towards her reflection. Ty Lee leans forward, bumping shoulders with Azula, a cheshire-wide smile on her face.

"I'm  _so_  happy!" she trills in excitement, but Azula interrupts as she all but shoves Ty Lee off of the bench. The Princess guides her with hands on her shoulders, maneuvering herself into the room and then gently pushing Ty Lee back into her seat. Ty Lee is stunningly quiet, but the pout that drags the corners of her lips down speaks volumes.

Azula folds thin arms across her chest, casts a sidelong glance at the way Zuko is wedged against her door, and the Prince doesn't shift his attention away from the knife split between his fingers. "Careful, Zuko," she says sharply, a smirk rising the moment he fumbles and slices the pad of his index finger, "that _isn't_ a toy."

She laughs and Zuko glowers, poking his finger into his mouth and standing. His hair is pulled back in the trademark ponytail, coiled with a glittering, gold wreath, and unlike the three girls huddled around the vanity, he has been dressed for the day's celebrations. Zuko grips the knife by its handle, a smooth curvature of jade speckled stone with a sun carved in the octagonal hilt of it.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the door creaks behind him and their mother sweeps in, smiling at the sight. "I came to dress the birthday girls," Ursa slips a hand underneath the sleek tumble of Azula's hair, turns towards Ty Lee perched at the vanity. "And of course, the non-birthday girl, as well." Katara beams, a smile that looks crooked and loving and like an imitation of their mother's.

"I'll see myself out," Zuko mumbles around the metallic taste of blood and the prop of his finger in his cheek, and his mother raises an eyebrow in concern but his back is already turned, slipping between the crack of the door. A second lapses, and his foot tips back in, tugging the door closed with curled toes.

Their conversation is barely audible through the thin, wooden door, but Zuko has no interest in whatever they're doing in there. The palace is surprisingly quiet, but he knows all of the festivities are being laid out under the blistering sun, servants scurrying quietly through some of the corridors, heads turned down out of respect. Zuko pauses in his step, plucks his finger out of his mouth and wipes it on the back of his pants, shifts under the discomfort of the heavy, golden neck plate against his bare collar.

Gold, his father tells him when he runs his fingers along the outfit set out for him earlier in the day, is their sun, it is the highlights in their flames, the hollow of their iris, the setting sun. It is worth and it is riches and it is a measure of his success. Gold, he says when he clips bands over Zuko's pale wrists, is power.

It itches against his skin, chafing red from jostling back and forth over the rotating joint, but he supposes it is just a small price to pay to please his father. He tosses the knife in his hands in the air, watching it swivel and taking care to catch it at the handle.

Zuko tosses it before he even notices she's there.

"That's a terrible blade."

It's an act of Re that he doesn't cut himself again, but manages to pinch three clumsy fingers around the blade instead of the handle. Zuko grits his teeth and lifts his head, and then his eyes widen at the sight. Mai only has the gall to look mildly impressed with the fact that she caught him off-guard, shifting in the intricate, vermilion dress her parents have no doubt slipped over her head.

He looks down at the blade, a myriad of colors twisted into the crystal-silver blade, the murky green handle he had unwrapped only days before, a gift from his uncle. Azula had gotten a pendant, golden and magnificently fashioned, a lovely gift befitting a young girl, but it'd only enraged her; Katara had received a golden necklace inlaid with a blue gem, the name of which Zuko had heard in his uncle's letter but couldn't remember, and she'd been nothing but ecstatic.

Mai sighs, and Zuko's eyes flick over to her as she slips her hand into the lofty pocket of her dress, pulls out a tiny, gleaming thing that fits between her fingers. She takes purposeful steps towards him, holding out the object in question. It is a sharp, diamond cut weapon, shaped from a glossy black stone, and Zuko's mouth parts in curiosity.

"It's an arrow," her thin fingers twirl the triangular piece in her hands, "this one is pretty harmless, but if you throw them hard enough…"

She pivots, and Zuko doesn't know how her nimble fingers twist it enough to throw it in a spiral, but it sails in a diagonal arc before it splinters against the unlit torch against the wall, "they shatter."

Zuko's mouth hangs rudely agape, and the shine of her eyes is what shows her pleasure at having stunned him. "My mother says I can't have them in my pockets, though," the quiet little girl presses her hands back into the stitched pockets of her dress and Zuko can hear the jostle of the stones and see their weight there, "or the servants will get awful cut up over them."

Wordlessly, he glances down at the blade still pressed between his fingers, mind churning slowly over what to say. "How…do you practice throwing a lot?" Knives are meant to be ornamental gifts and Zuko can tell from the beautiful colors of the blade and the minor fact that Mai criticizes the way it was fashioned that this knife in particular is not meant for combat, but for possession.

But the state of his bending is fragile, and Zuko revels in his own stubborn determination as the only edge he has over his sister, six and an elegant display of every firebending set in  _his_ level of mastery.

Mai crosses behind him, lifts his right hand with the blade tucked between it. "You always throw by the blade." Tapered fingers, lacquered nails scrape between his knuckles, nudging the pads of his fingers towards the tip of the blade. Zuko watches her shift his hand into place until she is satisfied, an almost mute click of her tongue against her teeth.

"Flick your wrist," she says quietly, pulling another arrow stone from her pocket, and she makes a show of pinching the arrow blade and swiveling her wrist backwards, before she draws back and throws the blade. There is something aggressive in her stance, in the way her eyes track the dark stone until it shatters against the opposite wall.

Zuko doesn't question it, mostly because it's none of his business, but he makes a silent note of it.

He lifts his arm slightly, extending his wrist with the blade tip caught between his fingers, and mimics the sharp actions of his companion, watching the blade spin before clattering, handle-first, against the opposite wall.

Maybe he imagines it, but a shadow of a chuckle sounds at his side, but when he looks down at Mai, all of the laughter seems contained in her eyes as she tilts her head to look at him, and his cheeks burn red. From behind them, Ty Lee screams, "Mai!"

Mai doesn't turn, not quite, before she grabs Zuko's wrist and shifts onto the tips of her toes, close enough to whisper, "We can practice some other time," before she falls into a natural turn, attention focused on her friend.

"You look nice, happy birthday," she says with latent disinterest, and Zuko jogs to pick up his knife at the end of the hall, thoughts quietly buzzing in his head. When he turns, his thoughts pause and relocate themselves onto the girls huddled in the hallway.

Azula stands in front of the two of them, hair tucked in a tightly wound bun, the same golden wreath emblem twisted around her hair. She looks nothing short of royalty in the golden trimmed, scarlet dress that matches the spun-silk texture of his own scarlet pants. The golden pendant, carved with care in the shape of a sun, rests over the collar of her dress, catches the daylight sun in blinding flashes.

Mai heaves a sigh as Ty Lee pulls her forward, plaited pigtails swaying behind her, and Katara stands under the shelter of Ursa's arm, shoving the curled bangs away from her round face. Her hair was encircled by the same golden wreath, but the spirals of her hair twisted out of her bun, obscuring the delicate trinket in her hair.

Zuko couldn't hear what Katara was saying over Ty Lee's incessant chatter, but her hand covered the oceanic gemstone fastened around her neck, eyes a similar color staring up at their mother.

"C'mon, Zuko," Azula says, her voice retaining an oddly child-like innocence, long lashes fluttering over rigid cheekbones, "you don't want to miss the celebration."

Her voice always edges his stomach with a chilling sense of dread, but Zuko tucks his knife carefully in his pocket and swallows the lump caught in his throat. With his mother bringing up the rear, Zuko falls into flurried step behind his sister, listening to the sound of Ty Lee's voice.

"…and I hope we'll always be able to celebrate our birthdays together, just like this," she reaches and tugs Azula to her side, looping their arms together with a smile. "This is going to be so great, I can't wait to see everyone!"

Zuko readies himself to step into the courtyard before someone grabs at his bicep with an unnervingly tight grip. Katara blinks up at him, blue eyes darting back and forth.

"What is it?" He masks the annoyance in his voice only because she looks so distressed, has all of her anxiety contained in the tiny lines of her face.

"Father isn't here," she says in a harsh whisper, nails tightening and digging into his skin, "something bad is happening."

Even though her whispers sound like exaggerations at best, Zuko has come to know his father's absence during dinner to mean his presence somewhere important, and as part of the family that didn't fall into the line of succession, his presence was only imperative in situations that were drastic.

He wants to say something because he can't stand the look on her face, concern and fear mingling over soft features, but instead, he sighs. "Katara," Zuko carefully peels her fingers from his arm, "you need to take it easy, all right? I'm sure it's nothing. C'mon," he tugs her hand gently, leading her down the stairs and into the decorated space designed for their daily celebration.

The sunlight dappled over the courtyard, and Ty Lee breaks out into a run the moment she spots the arrangements of food on the far table and open space of people mingling. Zuko watches as she tackles a woman around the legs, little fists tearing into the woman's skirts, and he peeks up as he recognizes her mother and the gaggle of girls in rosebud pink dresses hovering around her.

From behind him, he can hear his mother laugh in excitement, hurrying them forward at the sight of a dainty woman dressed in deep reds and golds. "Mai," she says pointedly, holding her hands out for her daughter, "you've gone and gotten wrinkles in your dress and the festivities have hardly begun!"

She laughs, a false tinkling noise that Zuko tires of hearing from just about everyone in the presence of his family, his father especially. Mai bristles as she moves into her mother's grip, her hands smoothing out along the cuffs of her dress and sliding down the fabric. Her eyes pin Zuko's and he twists up a nervous smile and a roll of his eyes, and it helps; she sinks in defeat, but a smile plays at her lips.

"I think she looks just fine," Zuko announces embarrassingly loud, and his sisters, Ty Lee, and his mother all turn to look at him as he flushes slightly, fingers picking against the golden cuff around his wrist.

But Mai's mother laughs as her eyes connect with Ursa, and his own mother settles her hands against his shoulders, gently brushing over the tip of his ponytail. "You're a sweet child, Prince Zuko," she compliments, "I hope you say so in ten years' time."

The two women burst out laughing and rather than smile, Mai tips him with an acidic look before she slides from under her mother's hands and disappears into the crowd of people.

Zuko frowns, but turns to take in the sight of the courtyard and the tables arranged in the center. There are four pillars to mark the corners, the floor a tiled, brick pattern with swirls of impure, molten stone fastened together. Statues carved from various mediums sit on a table not too far away, and Zuko has a mind to walk over and inspect them before he spots his father. Ozai's eyes are narrowed towards where he stands, his mother's hands still on his shoulders, and he does not make a beeline for them; instead, he marches forward and slips himself between people who stand in his path.

Eventually, people move out of the way for him as he stalks towards them, and something hot and searing settles in his stomach uncomfortably. "Ursa," he says in that dangerously smooth voice, and although Zuko's eyes are focused on his father's face, he doesn't as much as acknowledge Zuko.

"We must postpone this celebration for now," he says, and Ursa's hands fall from Zuko's shoulders. "Father has received word from Iroh; he is issuing a retreat from the remainder of the uncaptured Earth territories, and Lu Ten is dead."

That hot coin of nervous bursts into an unearthly chill, like frost and ice and unbearable cold, and Zuko barely waits until his father turns to walk away before he presses his face into his mother's skirts and begins to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super thanks to **shannon** for picking through this for me. just in case anyone is curious, this is titled because of mai and zuko's friendship. i swear this is the last 'filler' chapter (really, none of these are filler as much as they help build up the scenario that's about to go down), because all the good stuff is crammed into the rest of this story, as well as some soon to be shifting points of view.


	5. —i know you love me but i'm still gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an intermission of thoughts from a wayward mother.

**i know you love me but i'm still gone**  
—a ride in the sky

…

The last thing Kya expects is to be disturbed. She rises before the sun, before anything begins to pulse with life, and leaves her shoes behind for the riverbed. The water is cold around her feet, and the thick sand under her soles gives her a strange sensation, like the earth is melting out from underneath her feet when the river overflows.

"Mama," Sokka whispers, and Kya is so startled by his presence that she falls, kneeling down into the mud with trembling fingers. He walks over to her, crouches down beside her to wipe the mud that splashes back onto her thighs.

"Why are you up so early, Sokka?" Her voice cracks and it breaks her more than anything, makes her feel weak. Sokka has grown so strong; she marvels over him every day, the resolve and beauty and love for life that he possesses.

Even though he is young, he knows so much. “I saw you were gone, Mama. So I couldn’t sleep.” He stays close to her and for some reason, it brings Kya a small measure of joy. She raises her hand to rest against the back of his neck, rubs the shaved bristle of his hair. She is silent for a good measure of time, before she tilts her head up to kiss his cheek and stands from the sinking soil she’d fallen down into.

"Do you think about your sister often?" she asks suddenly, and she can see the surprise in Sokka’s expression.

"Not really," he rubs his arms sheepishly, his eyes ocean-dark in the twilight, "sometimes, when I’m lonely. But she’s safe, right, Mama?"

Kya’s lips quirk in a bittersweet smile, because Katara  _is_  safe and she is the one who is suffering (but that is her eternal plight, her sole responsibility as a parent, to shoulder the suffering of her children and lessen their own). Sokka tilts until he is leaning against her side, and she curls her arm around his shoulders. He is just as much her treasure as Katara and Kya does what she can to express his value. He may not have been a waterbender, but he is a beautiful boy, he is still worthy of being protected with her life.

"She is," Kya murmurs, thinking of the palace, thinking of the gilded life she is likely leading, hoping she is  _happy_  as well as safe, “and one day, she will return to us.”

They stand there together for a while, and it isn’t until the sun tips over the horizon that they are joined by the final member of their family. Hakoda’s eyes are still sleepy, but Kya appreciates the moment he slings his arms over her shoulders, drops his hand onto Sokka’s head.

"Everyone is awake and no one invited me," he mumbles between a yawn, and Kya twists herself further back into the warmth of his body, "now that’s something."

And really, Kya knows better; if they aren’t back to their home and ready for the day’s labors, she will have cost them all food for at least a week, but there is something that always draws her to the river’s side in the morning. Maybe it is because the spirit of her daughter’s waterbending has been quelled by the time the sun rises, as soon as the moon wanes from the sky.

She edges forward from the grasp of her family to sweep her fingertips over the water’s surface, and then she is ready to return home.


	6. —i don't know what to do; my heart is blistering

**i don't know what to do; my heart is blistering**  
—sundrenched world

…

By the time Zuko lets his mother lead him back into the palace, he shakes with composure, the only tell-tale sign of distress being the swollen red of his eyes and flush of his cheeks. Ursa kneels down to him in the hallway, smooth hands cupping his face, and it is all of Zuko's resolve not to cry again. It makes him feel so weak, but something despairing and uncomfortable grips his chest at the thought of his cousin, gone.

"It will be okay, Zuko," she says, her own voice heavy with sorrow, and he reaches his own small hands up to touch her face sadly. His mother smiles and drags his palm away, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, before standing. "I must see to whatever business your father has with me. Please, _please_ take care of the girls, all right?"

Zuko can't. Panic fills his chest in the place of his bereavement, and he wants to speak out against his mother's decision to leave him in charge, but he sees the sadness in her normally gleeful face, knows he has no other choice. He nods, squeezing his hand in hers before she lets go of him.

"I will," he says with a firm nod, "I promise." Ursa smiles, a ghostly expression that stretches her features into false mirrors, and she looks over his rattled appearance before she tips her head down and starts to walk away.

The courtyard is buzzing with heated conversations by the time Zuko ambles back and as he pushes his way through the crowds of people, he can hear snippets of theories floating down around him.

"Zuko," someone calls, a harsh whisper of a voice from nearby, and it takes him several glances around the courtyard to catch the dark eyes of his friend. The word settles oddly in his stomach as he walks over to her, slips behind the pillar to talk with her, but, "Are you okay?"

He doesn't mean to look at Mai the way he does, but he can see in the reflection of her eyes that she is the world and that this is a pivotal moment between the two of them. His eyes tremble with the threat of more tears, but there's something about Mai's avid gaze that keeps them pinned to the corners of his eyes.

His hand rests on the curve of her shoulder before he thinks about invading her space. "Thank you," is all he says at first, his words tender with a deep appreciation, "I will be, eventually."

Mai's hair sways around her face and it takes him a few moments to realize that she is fidgeting in place. Zuko takes a step back, lets his hand drop back down to his side. For several moments, he's unsure of what to say to her, if there is anything else he can say. And Mai seems to come back to her own senses the moment his hands are away from her, and she creases up into frowns and displeasure.

"I—I should go," he mumbles, "I'm supposed to be watching my sisters…and Ty Lee, come to think of it."

The last thing Zuko wants is to be babysitting, but if he is immersed with a task, with something important to do in relativity to the chaos around him, then maybe it will allow his mind to wander some. He clenches his fists for a moment, just to feel the blood pushing through his veins, and then he is relaxing, falling back.

"I'll come with you."

It's not a question, and Zuko doesn't attempt to dissect it any further. He simply turns, resumes weaving his way through the crowds with Mai behind him. He's grateful that no one pays him any attention, because it is when he is invisible amongst the throngs of people in the courtyard that a few more tears slip free, carefully smeared away from his cheeks as he presses on.

From behind him, Mai's fingers ghost along his back, and Zuko imagines it to be her way of comfort; he'd rather pretend there was nothing at all.

Azula, Katara, and Ty Lee are all crowded around a small table, picking at dishes and talking in hushed voices. It pains Zuko to imagine that this is taking some sort of toll on them, so his hands fall along their shoulders the moment he appears, Mai a shadow behind him.

"Zuko!" Katara and Ty Lee are simultaneous, turning into the sides of his body, their hands hooked around his waist, and for all the world, Azula looks completely disappointed.

For once, Zuko isn't sure whether or not it is aimed at him. But still, he drops his hands on their heads, careful not to dishevel the careful designs of their hairstyles. "Mom said it'd be okay if we all go back inside, just for now."

It isn't a suggestion, but Zuko knows how to handle the girls, and he knows that Azula will be the only one with opposition. At least he assumes so, and it is a measure of his surprise when he turns with both of them underneath his arms and Azula follows silently behind, in step with Mai's soundless feet.

A trickle of guilt falls between the cracks at the thought of Azula wanting to be comforted, wanting to fall underneath her brother's arms for a moment of weakness, and when Zuko turns his head over his shoulders to glance at her, the look on her face is indecipherable.

Zuko finds it much easier to slip through the crowds when he is flanked by more little children, and he walks slowly up the palace stairs to keep pace with Katara and Ty Lee. His mind is heavy with thoughts of his cousin, and the aura of distress that seems to be emanating from everyone else seems to be in accordance with his emotions. And maybe Katara and Ty Lee don't know what is going on, but he can't fool himself into thinking that Azula is clueless.

There is something about her expression that tells him she knows entirely too much.

Zuko approaches Azula's bedroom first, but Ty Lee and Katara dart ahead of him, crashing through the door and scrambling into the bed to sit beside one another. Mai follows, a pointed roll of her eyes, and Zuko turns to glance at Azula as she walks by.

"Hey," he throws his hand out in front of her, but she simply pushes it out of her way, glaring up at him.

"What's the problem, Zuko?"

He doesn't expect his face to flush the way it does, but he can't remember the last time he'd expressed a concern to Azula this way, and it turns him bashful. "I—Well—I just wanted to know if you were okay."

Azula blinks at him, golden eyes that narrow in an instant afterwards, and it's when an uncomfortable silence slides between the two of them. "I'm fine, idiot," she tips her head back and moves around him, heading into her room with a whisper, "people die all the time."

It isn't cruel of her to say, but part of him registers a sadness for her, that she has come to realize such a harsh truth through no means other than the influence of their father, if they are not his direct words. Zuko follows her into the bedroom, and he closes the door carefully while Azula hoists herself in the middle of the bed.

"What are we going to do now?" Ty Lee asks, leaning forward to stare at Zuko imploringly.

Ty Lee and Katara are giggling and nudging one another from their spot towards the back of the bed while Azula sits and twiddles her fingers together impatiently. Zuko hasn't really thought this far ahead, though he suspects it may not be as difficult as he thinks when the two girls interject.

"Let's read a book!" Katara suggests, scrambling and falling off of the edge of the bed with a thump. Ty Lee bursts out into an uncontrollable laugh as she slides off of the other edge of the bed, careful not to find herself in a similar predicament to Katara.

"We can sing a birthday song," Ty Lee twirls in a circle until she wobbles out of it and stands still to steady herself. "It _is_ our birthday, after all." Her eyes are bright as she glances over at Azula, who inspects the short ends of her fingernails with disdain.

"I don't care _what_ we do—as long as you keep me out of it."

Ty Lee frowns at Azula's response, but she can't keep the charade up for long; Katara grabs her hand and the two of them move, twirling through the small space in front of the princess' bed until they bump shoulders one too many times.

Zuko watches them with a slight exasperation and it isn't until Katara suggests more dancing that he speaks up. "Hey, Katara," he announces quickly, "why don't you pick a book for us to read?" Scattered in the corner of the room are all of the books Azula has already combed through; she is far too stubborn to ever ask Zuko's help in reading some of the more complex symbols within them, so many of them are covered in dust and creak at the seams when he opens them.

Katara picks a book out with a gold binding and black font set into a thick hide covering the tattered pages within. Zuko watches her rub her fingers along the indentations of the title before she deposits the book in his hands, her face cinched in deep thought.

"All right," he clears his throat, waiting a few moments for Ty Lee and Katara to resume their spots back on the bed, "this one is called _The Myth of the Fallen God_. You really want to read this?"

"I really like the cover, though," Katara says innocently from her space next to Ty Lee on the bed, and it's all the convincing that Zuko needs before he continues. Each page is rough against his fingertips, the words inked into the parchment with care despite the uneven surface.

"[Long ago, before all were ruled by one, they were ruled by four. The Gods who ruled over the people were responsible for giving the gift of their elemental power to the people of their nation and the four of them were dedicated to maintaining harmony throughout all of the world...](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7464024)"

Zuko doesn't quite make it halfway through the mythology text before the girls fall asleep: Katara is sprawled beside him with her limbs spread in every direction, while Ty Lee's head is gently nestled against Zuko's forearm with her mouth completely agape. Shockingly, Azula is curled into a small section of her bed, underneath a small portion of her blankets. Her hair is loose and the ornament from her hair is pressed into her tiny fist.

He contemplates the sweetness of falling asleep with them, but he knows it is far too vulnerable of a move. He slips from beneath Ty Lee and steps down from the bed with a careful leap, setting the book amongst the pile of Azula's collection; he considers the chunk of pages missing from the text as Azula's temper at work, and grimaces at the thought. For a moment, he surveys the three girls. The silence reminds him of the dilemma at hand, and Zuko has to swallow the knot in his throat in order to keep the tears from coming.

"Ah," he huffs to himself, shuffling towards the door and pulling it open. His mouth is caught open on a name, but it's swallowed up when he doesn't see her lingering outside the room. Zuko hadn't been paying close enough attention to notice when she'd slipped out of the room—Mai seemed to be great at appearing and disappearing at her own whim, with far too much practice. But the flutter in his chest only grew at the thought of her waiting around for him, and her crooked attempts at helping him.

Zuko decides to wait outside of their room in the hopes that she comes back (because maybe she just needed to get something, maybe she would be back, maybe, maybe).

He falls asleep, instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really got hit with severe writer's block (not to mention life happened) when it came to this story, but i finally beat it to death. also, i didn't include the myth because i couldn't figure out how to incorporate it into the scene so there's a link to it separately. it's not entirely necessary, though.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [the myth of the fallen god](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7464024) by [stellatiate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellatiate/pseuds/stellatiate)




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